The Bourne Legacy

Last year, when I learned that a new Bourne movie was coming out but Matt Damon was no longer the lead role, I didn't really care much for it.  But eventually, I wanted to watch the movie because it was shot in Manila, capital of the Philippines.  On the day it was released, I checked out rottentomatoes.com to see if it fared well with them.  It got a rating of 55%, not a really rotten tomato but not a red juicy one either.  It means that this movie seemed mediocre at best.

I just got to watch the movie today, more than a couple weeks since it was released.  For me, at least, it didn't disappoint up until the end when the conclusion of the film just came crashing like a sack of potatoes without warning.  I understand that they have to leave the movie hanging to keep the audiences expecting a sequel, but I really did wanted to have them pen a better ending. The rest of the film, though, was fast-paced, well shot and has gotten its act together so I highly recommend it.  

The new lead roles played by Jeremy Renner and Rachel Weisz were played very well.  It wasn't flawless but they did very well.  They also had the chemistry to match it with.  I did not understand why some critics say that their relationship was not established well in the movie.  I think they were able to develop the relationship at a good pace and did not seem contrived at all.

My main concern about the movie is that the plot is neither cohesive nor is it novel.  It almost resembled the first three Bourne movies without a new twist into it.  In the former movies, the CIA went after the tagged-rogue agent Jason Bourne and eliminate him to shut Operation Treadstone down.  Jason Bourne escaped and caused collateral damage in his path to save himself, his lover/wife and fight back against the agency he formerly worked for while discovering his identity and trying to stay very low profile to keep the agency off his back.  In this new movie, all Bourne-like operatives have to be eliminated inorder for a new set of Bourne-like-without-the-emotional-connection-aka-drama operatives could be set in place.  Renner, of course, survives the assassination attempt, was able to discover that he had his genes mutated by a virus to have permanent physical enhancement (increased strength, reflexes etc) and with the help of Weisz, travel to Manila to have his genes mutated again-- this time to have permanent neurological enhancement ( increase nerve regeneration, sensation etc).  Now, the CIA is tracking them down, wanting to kill them but because they are the stars of the film and there is a need for a sequel (with sarcastic rolling of the eyeballs), they manage to get out of it all, kill the lone Bourne-like-without-the-drama operative and in the end were sailing smooth along the beautiful lagoons of the Hundred Islands (this I am not sure of).  ---okay, just now I've been told it is El Nido, Palawan :-)

In order to keep the movie sequel interesting, Renner should have a real meeting or even a collaboration with  the real Bourne, Matt Damon in the movie.  They called it the Bourne Legacy, but Damon didn't even make a cameo appearance in the film.  I don't think the franchise will survive without Matt Damon, the face of the Bourne franchise, in the film at all.  

The shots taken in Manila was surprisingly very good.  It really caught me off guard.  I was expecting a less than savory portrayal of the Philippines as a third world country.  The film, however, managed to showcase a picture of what Manila and the entire Philippines is all about.  It is about a nation who is rising from the clasp of poverty and is getting ready to take center stage as a booming economy that could no longer be taken for granted.  The film showed the high rise buildings along with the simple, old, tin-roofed apartments and they even have a shot of Renner losing his footing on one of those roofs.  (I was wondering at first how Renner could have run on top of those tin roofs without having one of those roofs crash down.  Well, one of them eventually did.)  The movie also showcased the people traffic along the overpasses of EDSA, which was also accurate especially if you pass there at rush hours.  The portrayal of a woman screaming magnanakaw (thief) when she discovered a stranger (Weisz) in her home is also accurate.  The same could not be said of the ensuing events that followed.  In reality, the policemen will be last to answer the call for magnanakaw and God-forbid by the time they get there, Weisz would've been beaten black and blue by the townspeople. Hahaha! It was good though, how the movie portrayed how industrious our factory workers are and even that pharmacy lady who opted to give out medicine for free to the foreigner.  That would surely have escaped the eyes of all movie-goers except the real Filipino patriots like muah.

All in all, I would rate the movie a 7.5/10.  The storyline was legit and I don't think the movie would have gotten fairly harsh criticism if only it wasn't compared to the original Bourne trilogy which is a classic.  It's like  nothing was ever as good or nearly as good as The Godfather trilogy until GoodFellas came along (and perhaps none since).  Furthermore, it was able to project my country in a new light, something full of hope this time not of despair.  It featured the Philippines and its people with vibrancy and dynamism, an economy that is growing and healthy and it did showcase the beauty of its islands for which it should be known for as it should be.  Kudos to the cast and crew of the film and I am looking forward to its next installment.

(P.S.  for the Pinoys who were in the film [I googled them, of course] we have Antonette Garcia as the landlady, John Arcilla as the security guard and comedian Lou Veloso as the fisherman/owner of the fishing boat).

Language

So here I am deliberately deciding to allot time for writing an entry into my blog.  I am laying tummy down on my bed and staring at the laptop screen with nothing to write about in particular.  I decided to type away anyway.  Random things, random thoughts, random people.

I read this from the net this afternoon. http://ph.news.yahoo.com/yes--some-pinoy-%E2%80%98languages%E2%80%99-are-on-the-brink-of-extinction.html

Many people I met here in the US wonder if Gemma, my friend and housemate, are related.  We tell them we are not and they would then ask from which country we came from.  When we tell them we are from the Philippines, many of them would ask as what part.  That is sorta hard to answer.  I am surprised many of the Americans actually know where the Philippines is.  When they do, it is usually because of WWII or the former US military bases here in the country.  Few of them know of our beautiful beaches and culture, fewer still know that we were once an American colony.

I have to tell them that Gemma comes from the northern island, where Manila, the capital, is located.  She is from Isabela, an 8-hour bus trip from the megacity but I don't give them the details anymore.  I also tell them I come from the middle islands.  I was even pleasantly surprised when two of my patients were able to know where Iloilo is: one used to be a navigator during the WWII and the other married an Ilongga who died from breast cancer some 30 years ago. I am amazed that my seemingly insignificant hometown is known to some people halfway across the world.

Some are taken aback if they learned that Gemma and I have been here in the US less than a year.  I personally think I speak good English.  God did not give me good skin, towering height, broad shoulders, athleticism, musical ability, a long penis, a penchant for numbers or business.  But He gave me a gift for languages.  So I would like to say that given time and adequate training I can learn a language and speak it well, at least to a level deemed acceptable with true speakers of the language.  When I tell my patients, " Pacencia, no comprende, me no habla Espanyol", some of the bilingual nurses would tell me I sounded like I did.  I wish I truly did.  I wanted to be fluent at least in these four languages: Spanish (spoken by everybody from Mexico to the entire South America except Brazil), Niponggo, Korean and Chinese.  That will be for another lifetime, though.

When I tell people that Gemma and I don't speak the same language, they are curious how we communicate with each other.  I tell them we speak the common language which is Tagalog so we can understand each other.  With more than seven thousand islands in the country, we have amazingly have developed many languages and many more dialects.  Hiligaynon, for example, is a language and Karay-a and Akeanon are dialects or sub-languages.  Karay-a is spoken by people from the western to the northwestern part of Iloilo and Antique.  Since Karay-a is mostly spoken by people from the fields and mountains, it is considered by the city-dwellers somewhat inferior compared to regular Ilonggo.  Therefore, although fiercely defending their heritage, the Karay-a speakers eventually transition to speaking the more conventional, more acceptable Ilonggo.  They would still speak Karay-a when speaking to family and friends from their hometown, but their intonation and diction transform to the more fluid and somewhat musical way of speaking Ilonggo.  That, I believe eventually leads to the death of a language/dialect.  People become socially intermingled and start losing some of their individualism.

I speak Ilonggo myself, but I can't stand listening to a Mass in vernacular.  I couldn't understand the words that the priests use.  Not being able to use many words in daily conversation eventually erode you ability to comprehend even your own language.  The loss of vocabulary will eventually be replaced by typical common words that does not reflect the distinction of your language.  I hope these endangered languages could be saved, if only for purely academic purposes.  They surely would bring light to our past as a people, united by a country of many islands and a horde  of wonderful, wonderful languages.

Yes, I am Pro RH because I am Pro-poor

We just moved to our new apartment after almost a couple months being holed up at Best Western Hotel and I just got my internet back.  I would have written more entries in the last couple months if only I got time and space to write everything down.  Today, I got both so here I go.

I am writing about the RH bill and the reasons why I am supporting it.  If you are able to read this blog entry at all, I assume you already have made a choice--you either support it or you don't.  Let me be the first to tell you that you don't have to read this to be informed.  The fact that you are reading this right now online I reckon means that you have access to the information you need on reproductive health, family planning and sex education.  If you say you don't, then your ignorance is your own fault altogether.

Let me start by saying that the RH Bill is not for you and I.  You are reading this entry, you are reading this online.  I assume you are educated.  Therefore this is not for you.  The RH Bill is for the millions of Filipinos who are poor, those without access to the right information on reproductive health and family planning, those who cannot read this entry just because they don't have access or they don't know how to turn on the computer and much less use it to be informed.  The RH Bill is for the poor and the poorly educated, not you and I.

Families and couples have the right to choose how large they would want their families to be. It is mostly subject to the availability of funds.  Yes, a big family is fun.  You have a lot of hands to help around the house, farm or business. You have a lot of support in times of crisis.  You will not run out of playmates and nannies to watch over the kids.  You have more people to help you with work, with projects, with assignments.  But common sense also dictates that having more people to support entails that you have to have enough resources to support them: basic necessities, education, healthcare, etc.  All of those things will put a strain on your resources unless you are enviably wealthy. A couple with a college degree for example with a combined income of thirty thousand a month would probably be able to support one child quite comfortably.  But even they would fall below poverty line if they have five or six children.  How much more a lavandera and a tricycle driver with the same number of kids? Or a saleslady and a security guard? Which is why I am saying that the RH Bill is not for you and I, the somehow okay people.  People who can get by.  This is for the poor.  When a lavandera comes to the government for help because she can no longer support the number of children she has, it is only rightful for the state to help her.  How? One way is to educate her on alternative methods of contraception.  Education is still the best way to set our people free from the chains of poverty.

The Philippines is the 12th most populous nation in the world. Now there would be studies claiming either population is or isn't what makes a country rich or poor.  I just find it so contradictory to common sense whichever says that a huge population doesn't equate to poverty.  We have a hundred million people cramped like sardines in a tiny piece of land in the Pacific ocean.  We have one-third the entire US population and one-tenth the entire Chinese population in a land of dwindling resources.  Note though, that China and the US are the third and fourth largest countries in the world respectively.  The Philippines has a hundred million mouths to feed three times a day. A hundred million mouths requiring sustenance and support pushing our land and resources to the brink of total devastation.  Add to that the fact that we are at the center of climate change with massive storms claiming lives, livestock and grain every so often.  How much more can our fragile land of diminishing resources take before we have a land left barren and unable to provide food, water and basic necessities?

Overpopulation, they say, is not the problem.  It is the corruption in the government, inequality in the distribution of  wealth and greed of the rich. They say that if they get these resolved first, then poverty will be eradicated. Yes, I admit they are problems. They are very serious problems indeed. I hope I don't sound so cocky and condescending but not even Jesus Himself, when He still walked the earth, was able to eradicate them.  Yes, they have to be addressed but as they are so deeply rooted on our beings, on our culture, on our society, they won't be resolved in a year or even ten.  That is a fact. We can stem them little by little but we can never eradicate them completely.  That, too, is a fact.

The barrage of anti-RH bill supporters finding all that is wrong and evil about contraception is now overwhelming.  They have researched thoroughly all the studies pointing to the relationship of contraception and cancer and diabetes and whatever there is they can find.  I would like to thank them for that.  Because if the RH Bill is passed into law, their information would be vital for couples to choose which one they would use, if they indeed decide to, based on their pros and cons.  I just hope that they stop implying that with the government supplying people with their chosen contraceptive, they are in effect giving them cancer. That is just so f****d up, pardon my French.

I am thinking of probably writing a second part for this entry as this is getting too long and long blog entries bore people.  Let me just explain one more thing before I finish this.  The issue of the being pro-RH or anti-RH is not just as simple as being left or right, black or white, up or down.  It is not even just about the degradation or preservation of our nation's morality.  Nor is it just about correct or incorrect management of the country.  It is more about choice.  It is all about choice.  If you think that using contraceptives is immoral and sinful, then don't use it.  If you think that it's a blessing to have many children in your family, then go ahead.  It's your choice, it's your right and it shall be rightfully respected.

However, if a couple decides they cannot support any more and they choose to use contraceptives. Respect their choice, too.  If they cannot afford to do so and asks the government for help, it should be the government's responsibility to look after them.  If you say, "but they are using my taxes to pay for their contraceptives", shall I assume that not only are you anti-freedom but also anti-poor?  Just a question to ponder.

Failing Heroes

We all grow up with our own heroes.  Hero: a person we always wanted to become.  As kids, we have always looked up to our parents.  Boys wanted to be big and strong like their dads and girls wanted to be beautiful and loving like their moms.  Boys wanted to be like Superman or Wolverine. Girls dreamed of being Barbie or the Pink Ranger.  We all wanted to become like our heroes.  What happens then if the heroes that we look up to fail?

The first hero (or should I say heroine) I looked up to was Maningning Miclat.  You probably never heard of her.  But I did.  She was an artist, a painter and a trilingual poet.  I have always written poetry even as a kid.  But it was my discovery of Maningning's work (as well as Robert Frost and Edgar Allan Poe) that influenced me to take poetry writing seriously.  I was in highschool then, with all my raging hormones to compel me with burning passion to write about life and love begotten or unrequited, it didn't matter.  I wrote with a passion the way Maningning did on hers.  I so adored her I would sneak into National Bookstore during the weekend to read parts of her Voice from the Underworld book.  It broke my heart, then, when I learned she leapt to her death from a campus building.  My heroine was gone. My heart was broken. 

I was, too, a strong environmentalist as a child, hence my vast knowledge of nature stuff and my profound love for nature documentaries.  I would rather watch a nature documentary than watch a film on TV for that matter.  But my nature-freak nature doesn't end there.  Until now I am never comfortable throwing anything not into a garbage can.  I rather bring a candy wrapper home and throw it properly into the trashcan than just flip it conveniently into the streets. And so when I learned that actress Chin Chin Gutierrez was a strong environmental  activist, I fell head over heels for her.  She is also unbelievably beautiful and ageless.  She became my other heroine, even more so when she grazed the cover of Time magazine in 2003 as an Asian hero for the environment.  My heroine though, is fighting a losing battle.  In my beautiful country, the Philippines, poverty and overpopulation is pushing Mother Nature on her back.  By the end of the 21st century, if people and our leaders will not act soon, the country will be but and empty shell of of bare rocks, our people starved to death and ravaged by war and hunger.

For the last nine years, the hero that I looked up to is Lebron James, the basketball superstar.  I watched the NBA again because of him.  I looked up to LBJ because he is everything I wanted to become in my next life:  Big, strong, athletic, unbelievably wealthy.  He is of the same age as I am, a month younger than me.  And I've always cheered him on despite all the controversies surrounding him.  I wanted him to win a ring so bad to shut all the haters up and have his place in history as one of the best players to ever grace the basketball floor.  It is his ninth season already, and he is almost 28 years old.  Not as young anymore. Still no rings.  It seems like he remains a promise, a promise that is about to be blown out again this year in the playoffs.  I am writing this entry while watching their game.  I hope they win.  I don't want another hero in my life to fail.  Not now.  Not again. 

Nocab

I would like to dedicate an entire blog post to one of the best things in life:

No, I am not talking about love between these two characters.  I am talking about what they are cooking.  Crispy delicious bacon!  Look at that orgasmic expression on that woman's face.  Bacon!  Bacon bacon bacon! You are so delicious to the taste.  You make my heart go pit-a-pat, literally and figuratively.  But oh how tasty you are.  And you know it:

The wafting smell of bacon cooking in the frying pan gets me high.  Bacon is my weed. My coke.  My meth.  It gets me high.  So does my blood pressure.  But I don't care.  Bacon. Bacon. Bacon.  You are my one true love.  You are a king among hypertensive foods.  I love you with all my heart.  I love you more than I love my heart.  Heart attack or cardiac delight? Bacon bacon bacon! You are mine!

I. Love. Bacon.

Old?

You're only as old as you think you are.  

It sounds like a cliche ain't it?  Age is just a number.  Or really is it?

Working in a nursing home made me realize that yes, this statement is true.  Among the most fascinating people in this world are elderly.  It is hard to picture them interesting.  Most people only see the elderly in two pictures: (1) the wizened old oak who will share the secrets of the universe before he passes and (2) the decrepit invalid who soils himself and you wish never to become.  Both perceptions are also inaccurate.  Not all old people are wise, I'm telling you.  Aging is universal, maturity is not.  This explains why you can find 40-year-olds living in their parents house cause they don't want to find a steady decent job to pay for house rent.  This also explains my dumbass 50-something year old schizophrenic uncle who gives tantrums like a two year old when he's not given booze.  In fact, maturity is a choice and is highly likely to be influenced by surrounding circumstances.  I mean, people in the Philippines grow up to be pampered and coddled by their parents.  This means it is not embarrassing or taboo to be 30 and still living under your parents' roof.  I was that person too.  Until I moved out here to the US where I realized at 27, I am still a baby.  I have to be mature or at least act mature so as not to look dumb. 

The second statement is also inaccurate.  Those who are considered bed-ridden vegetables are but shells of real people with real lives.  They are existing, albeit no longer living and have all gone to their tiny pieces of heaven without having their spirits cut off from the mortal world. Yet.  It's like they are waiting for their number to be called so they could go into eternity. 

Age really is just a number.  I have seen an elderly resident putting on makeup and mascara and makes friendly flirtations with the guys.  She calls me her little China doll and I playfully as her to prepare for our date.  There is also an elderly guy who calls all the ladies baby, cause he says, I wanna take care o' all o'em!  These exchanges are funny as hell when you meet them.  And the laughter it brings them surely adds years to their lives.

It may seem weird seeing the elderly act like youngsters but truly, fascinating it is  to see people with spirits that cannot be broken by time.  Whose enthusiasm drowns out all the negativity in the world and replace it with a smile.  I wish I will always have a spirit like that.

Three days ago, I worked with a patient who i expected would be b***h.  Turned out to be one of the coolest grannies I've ever met.  She is almost 90 and lives in an assisted living facility.  She told me: nothing scares me honey.  I have had three heart attacks, five strokes, a broken wrist, two broken hips, a broken rib cage and a broken leg and I am still raring to go!  I always do what I set my heart into.  I never consider myself old.  My spare parts are beginning to break down but what the hell.  I was skating at 75 years old!

Me: Is that why you broke your hip?

With a smile she replied: Yes.  And I broke my wrist and ribs climbing up a tree, too.  :-)

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Shock

It was warm this morning.  I woke up late, rushed through my morning routine of fixin' my breakfast and packed lunch and strode to work.  I strode with as much gusto as coffee can give you whilst listening to Fall Out Boy on my Ipod to work.  This day will be good I can tell.  Everything was going smoothly until I walked into the door.

I clocked in.  Several seconds later my boss told me the bad news.  Nope, nobody of importance died.  Nope, I am not getting fired.  Nope I am not getting sued.  She told me somberly, they want us out of this facility by the end of the month.  I gave her a confused look and a 'huh?'-face.  She said yes, you heard me right.  They want their own people coming in to replace us.  It took kinda long for me to digest what she just said.  Then I saw Curtis, a PT assistant, reach for the phone and called Lucy Corr if they got a position open for him there.  Yes, there will be a shakeup and we are definitely moving out.  It's not a rumor anymore.  We are being kicked out.

I am not losing my job.  I still have a job, I just don't know where.  And wherever that is, I'm sure it will be stressful.  It is a proven scientific fact, that moving to a different place and getting a new job are among the most stressful events in one's life.  It is a strong possibility too that I will get both by the end of the month.  I hate to relocate.  I hate to start over again.  But I have no choice.   It's not the work that bothers me, it's the adjustment that I have to make all over again.

Just when I thought I was transitioning rather smoothly to living my American dream, here goes the shake up.  I've worked here for four months and during that period I have learned a lot from the people I am working with now.  I remember several months back that the people there just come in to work, do what they have to do and go home.  It's like there is no personal connection among them, everything is purely professional.  But lately, we have been sharing some laughs together, stories, nonsense and we kid around all the time.  It makes work light and even the patients who do their therapy there take part in  the camaraderie that we all enjoy.  I would like to think that I have helped a whole lot in making this transformation by opening up and doing silly stuff around which made them think I am not uptight and reciprocated my playfulness.  I consider them now as a small family.

A small family about to be broken up even before we made stronger bonds.  And now I will be forced to make new bonds with no assurances that the people I will be working with next aren't a-holes.  That the place I will be relocated at will be as convenient and accessible.  Until now, I don't drive.  And that is an immense handicap I have to face. 

I don't know what the future holds.  For now, I will sleep.  Still confused.  Still in shock.